Authors: Clare Allan
What happened was Verna and Sue the Sticks gone looking for proof again. Sue worn a pair of gardening gloves she bought out
of Woolworths, 4.49, which I could of lifted for nothing as well but God helps them help theirselves. And this time they taken
a key with them Rosetta borrowed off of Minimum Wage, opened every door, she said, 'cept the staff room got a Chubb lock.
Course they come back full of the same old bullshit, everything they seen and done and all of it bollocks anyway, especially
Verna; Sue weren't so bad on her own. They seen seven rooms just full of boxes they said, that's all they had in them boxes
and boxes, all piled up on top of each other. And Verna used one of Sue's crutches to shift one, like hooking a sheep with
a crook, and she brought it crashing down on to the floor, but all it had in it was thousands of forms, all exactly the same,
just like thousands of forms, all covered with numbers in circles. And Verna said they was answer papers and the questions
must of been somewhere else. 'You know,' she told us,
'exam
answer papers. Like GCSE,' she said. 'Multiple choice.' Which I didn't know neither to tell you the truth on account of I
didn't
got
no GSEs, not like Verna the Vomit with her fifty grade As and her private school all stuffed up her arse, do you know what
I'm saying, fuck her! So then they pulled down a load more boxes to try and find one with the questions but they never.
It was the last door though got everyone's para working overtime. It weren't there before, said Sue the Sticks, she'd swear
on her life it weren't there before or not with the steel shutters anyway, 'cause they would of remembered that. The shutters
was pulled right down and locked like the Turkish shop after ten. And the master key wouldn't open the lock; they tried, said
Sue, they both of them tried, but you could see anyway it was a different sort of lock. Well while they was trying they heard
this noise seemed to come from inside the room. Like a drumming, whirring, sort of a noise . . .
'You mean people?' we said.
'Not
people
exactly,' said Sue the Sticks.
'What then?' we said.
'I don't know,' said Sue. 'We weren't sure, was we Vern. But I didn't like the sound of it. I said to Verna, I said, "I'm
going. I've heard enough," I said. "I'm going." "It's probably just Minimum Wage," she says. "Hoovering or something." "Hoovering!"
I said. "Hoovering! Funny sort of hoovering! And I s'pose I'm a duchess as well," I said, "if that's hoovering!" I know what
hoovering sounds like!' But Verna still reckoned it could of been. It could of been a Dyson she said. And Sue said she wouldn't
know about that, all
she
knew was it weren't hoovering. So in the end the only thing was to go and ask Minimum Wage.
At first Rosetta refused to go. 'She's done more than enough already,' she said. 'She's risked her job for helping us . .
.'
'So give her a table,' Wesley said, but turned out she got one already. 'So give her another one,' he said, but Rosetta said
there weren't enough room 'cause the one she got had to stand up on end as it was.
'So what's the problem?' Astrid said. 'You's only asking if she's got a Dyson . . .'
'And if not, what that noise was,' said Sue. "Cause it weren't hoovering. I know that much . . .'
'Perhaps I should ask her,' Michael said. 'On behalf of the Patients' Council.' But no one thought that was a good idea; Minimum
Wage never taken to Middle-Class Michael.
Suddenly Poppy slapped her forehead. 'I know!' she said.
'It's obvious!' Everyone turned and stared like what's coming now.
'Duh!' she said, like ain't I stupid.
'What?' we said, couldn't help it.
'A cameraman!' she said. 'That's what it is! They've got a cameraman in there. They're making a dribbler
Big Brother.
Voting us out one a week,' she said. She looked up to the corner like taking the piss, do you know what I'm saying, like she's
live on telly. 'Please vote for me,' she said. 'Please, please, please!'
'Is that supposed to be funny?' said Astrid.
'I'll take all my clothes off!' Poppy said. 'I'll sleep with Michael. Anything!' Michael's ears gone so fucking red, do you
know what I'm saying, they lit up the whole room and the fag smoke swirling shades of pink like someone had swapped the light-bulbs.
'It
is
next door to the theatre,' said Sue.
'They got the mirrors,' Tadpole said. Tadpole taken Tina's place. I'll say about her in a minute.
'Fuck!' said Wesley. You seen him thinking. Pictured hisself on the front of the
Mirror.
'Fuck!' He was smiling all over.
Suddenly Poppy started to laugh. 'You are live on Channel 4,' she said. 'Please refrain . . .' But she couldn't get it out
on account she was laughing too much. 'Please . . .' she said. 'Please refrain . . .' she said, but each time she said it
she cracked up again, till she was shooking and shooking and crying with laughter and all on her own and everyone sat looking.
She taken a deep breath, held up a hand and give it another go. 'You are live on Channel 4,' she said. 'Please refrain . .
.' she started to shake; it come out in snorts through her nose. 'You are live on Channel 4. Please refrain from swearing.'
Do you know what I'm saying, it weren't
that
funny. And I reckon she realised it weren't as well 'cause as soon as she said it she stopped laughing then like total anticlimax.
And she run a finger under her eyes, and checked it and run it under again then she reached in her bag for her cigarettes
and as she leant forward I seen these tears like welling against her lashes. And Rosetta must of seen it too 'cause she leant
across give Poppy a rub on the arm.
'Alright,' said Rosetta, standing up. 'I'll talk to Minimum Wage. I'm not pushing, mind, I'll just ask her; that's all. If
she doesn't want to tell me, that's her business. Lord knows!' she said. 'She's done more than enough already!'
Rosetta was gone for hours, it felt like. 'She's been discharged,' said Astrid, twice.
'Evicted,' said Zubin. He started to laugh.
'Oh don't,' said Sue. 'It's not funny!'
'I hope Trevor McDonald ain't watching,' said Tadpole. 'I don't want him knowing I'm in here. Start putting stuff in my head
again. That's what happened last time,' she said. She was looking at Astrid. Astrid sniffed. 'Never leaves me alone,' said
Tadpole. 'That's why I'm here, get some peace and quiet. If he finds out, that'll be it.' Tadpole was so fucking paranoid,
made Elliot, hid underneath his chair, with his sweatshirt tied round under his eyes like a bleach-haired terrorist, made
Elliot look like he'd just took a couple of sensible precautions.
They'd moved Tadpole down the day Tina gone; she'd been on the wards seven years. And all that time they'd had her on Plutuperidol
- syrup, I think, or else injections, either way so's she couldn't palm it and trade it with Banker Bill. The Plutuperidol
didn't work, 'cause it don't, just drugged her so comatosed, her brain weren't turning fast enough to remember her own name
half the time, let alone the names of the people following her. The other thing was it pumped her up, quicker than a bicycle
tyre. Soon she didn't got no neck at all; she was totally round, like a giant ball, 'cept for two skinny legs stuck out the
bottom which is why we called her 'Tadpole'.
When Tadpole got to the Dorothy Fish she begun self-medicating, which means she stopped taking her medication, and inside
of a day her neck come back, and inside of a week her waist come back, and inside of a month she was all skin and bone but
she still kept her name like sentimental reasons. The paranoia was even quicker; her first full day at the Dorothy Fish, I
seen her trying to twist round in her chair to check there weren't no one behind her, then the day after I was just saying
about, when Rosetta gone down to see Minimum Wage, Trevor McDonald found out where Tadpole was hiding. 'Won't leave me alone
for a second,' she said. 'I'll never get rid of him now.' 'So take your meds,' said Astrid Arsewipe; it was right before the
assessments as well. Fuck, was she pissed off! But Tadpole said meds didn't make no difference. It weren't nothing to do with
the meds, she said. What use was a tablet when he seen her on dribbler
Big Brother?
'She's been discharged,' said Astrid, again, which is three times in total she said it. And my stomach gone all sort of cold
for a second 'cause me and Rosetta, we got on alright, and one time she give me this flip-top bin - like she'd washed it all
out and everything - when she painted her kitchen, and bought a new blue one to match. So when I seen Rosetta walk in, I says
to myself, thank fuck for that, and I don't mind admitting I did, I felt quite relieved.
'So?' we said.
But she shaken her head. 'She wasn't there,' she said.
'And it took you half an hour to work
that
out?' said Astrid, who still got the hump with Rosetta, on account of Rosetta had rubbed Poppy's arm when Poppy started crying
about the
Big Brother
thing, which Astrid reckoned was aimed at her, or something like that; it all of it come out later.
'No,' said Rosetta. 'Something else.' And that was when she told us.
'I knocked a long time,' Rosetta said. 'But she didn't open the door. So in the end I tried the handle and it opened just
like that. I was thinking I'd leave a note saying I called but I couldn't find anything to write on. So I started rummaging
through my bag; I suppose I must have let go of the door - I did, I remember it slamming behind me - and just as I found an
old envelope that's when I heard these voices outside the cupboard. Lord knows, I'm not one for listening to private conversation,
so I stuffed my fingers in my ears and even started singing a song to myself but it didn't do much good; they were so close
you couldn't miss a word of it. ' "Well there's not a great deal one can do," says the first voice. Sounded like an educated
man, a scholar or something, the way he was talking. "I understand your concerns, indeed I
share
them; it's terribly difficult. But sadly that's the way things are; one always has to work within certain parameters . . ."
'"No, I realise that," says the second voice; it's Tony Balaclava! "I realise that, Derek, I wasn't suggesting . . ."' ('Derek?'
said Michael. 'Derek
Diabolus!'
'Shhh!' we said.'Go on!')
'"And clearly if one could have avoided that unfortunate . . . Pollyanna, was it? Tragic business." I'm listening now;got
my ear pressed tight to the door! "But you see where they're coming from," he says. "As a doctor, of course, one thinks only
of one's patients, but as a taxpayer I do recognise we can't just keep pouring money in . . ."
"Well, no . . ." says Tony.
' "One needs evidence that the treatment is effective, quantifiable results, otherwise it's very hard to justify extra funding.
If A, then B, that sort of thing. But we have to
prove
it, QED. As a scientist, I must say, I rather relish the challenge."
' "Of course," says Tony. "You're right, of course. I just wondered whether in Tina's case . . ."
' "It's rather like when my wife goes to Waitrose." It's the first man talking again. "She wants to choose what goes in her
trolley; she wants to see what she's paying for. She doesn't just hand over her purse and let them fill it for her."
' "No," says Tony. "No, I'm sure . . ."
' "And it's really no different with health services. We need to offer our customers . . ."
' "The patients?" says Tony.
' "Well, yes, the patients . . . but it's the government really, isn't it, or the taxpayer at the end of the day; he's the
one footing the bill. We need to offer him something tangible, something he can put in his trolley, if A then B, QED. He wants
to know where his money's going. What is he
getting
for it; that's the question!"
'"Quite," says Tony. "It's just, with Tina . . ."
' "I'm not suggesting it's straightforward, Tony. I'm well aware, as a psychiatrist, of the problems in obtaining concrete
data. It's hardly as though one can measure the tumour, or not in any obvious sense, I mean; where does one place the ruler,
you see?"
' "I do," says Tony.
' "And that being so, how does one prove in facts and figures the efficacy of one treatment over another? But I always insist
— and there
will
be those who seek to demote us, make no mistake - I always insist psychiatry is a
science
first and foremost. I'm not talking about psychology or social work; that's all very well. But psychiatry is a science, pure
science; I always say, in its purest form one doesn't need patients at all."
' "I'm not sure . . ." says Tony.
' "I know, I know . . . I know what you're trying to say. Compromise is inevitable when it comes to
applying
one's science in a clinical setting. But I have to say that as a clinician, I rather applaud what Veronica's doing, in certain
respects at least. We have to work within the system; I'm all for taking a principled stand, but the argument's far from straightforward.
If they shut us down where's the good in that?"'
'They shutting us down!' White Wesley said, and it run round the room like dominoes. But Rosetta said Tony wouldn't never
allow it, not in a million years she said. 'Don't worry about that, Tony lives for this place. He's not going to let
that
happen. But we've got to help him as well,'she said. 'We must do all we can; we're the cause of his trouble, none of us getting
better.'
'So it's
our
fault is it now,' said Astrid. 'It's
our
fault if we're mentally ill . . .'
Rosetta ignored her. 'He said something else.'
'Who?' we said. 'Dr Diabolus?'
'Just beggars belief,' said Middle-Class Michael. 'This is precisely what we've been . . .'
'Tony,' Rosetta said.
'What!' we said. 'What did he say, Rosetta?'
But she shaken her head. 'I'm not sure,' she said. 'It's private, I'm not sure I ought to tell.' She was looking at Poppy.
'He talked about you.'